


Not Interested

by iamisaac



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: M/M, hair fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 04:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5233805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamisaac/pseuds/iamisaac





	Not Interested

To be quite truthful – not that Harry had been quite truthful: there were things that it was better not to say – it had been simply embarrassing when Fleur and Ron eloped together. Harry knew that shock, anger, sadness, betrayal should have been more in the way of the emotion he was feeling. And yes, there was something of that there. But right there, the first, the strongest feeling? Hideous embarrassment. Harry knew he was expected to “understand how it felt” since Hermione and Ginny's loving relationship was mostly believed to have been a horrible shock to himself and Ron, rather than (as he'd seen it) A Blessed Relief. Harry adored Ginny – there were no two ways about it – and would have been quite happy to have her as a sister. But not as a wife.

Bill and Fleur, however, had actually been married. In fact, still were married, though with Ron and Fleur in France and Bill in England, it wasn't precisely appropriate to think of them as husband and wife. And Harry shut down the second strongest emotion in his mind which couldn't help gloating that Bill was no longer someone else's husband. He could not be glad that Bill's wife had absconded with another man – he could not. How horrible would that make him?

Nevertheless, as the person with experience (in the minds of the rest of the Weasley family), Harry had been voted into the position of Chief Consoler. He and Bill were, therefore, both staying in Harry's house, and getting very drunk on a nightly basis. And Harry was not looking at Bill's hair and wondering what it might feel like to run his fingers through it. Nor was he wondering what it might feel like to have Bill's hair tickling certain sensitive parts of his anatomy. Nor was he, indeed, interested in Bill's hair in **any way whatsoever.**

It seemed he'd said that last line aloud: Bill turned to him.

“Why should you be interested in my hair?” he asked, sounding not unreasonably bewildered.

“I shouldn't. I mean, I'm not,” Harry said hastily.

“I guess I'm the only one in the family with hair as long as Ginny's,” Bill said, with a sigh. “Does it still -”

Harry cut him off before he could finish. “No, and it never did, and you're completely not to say that to anyone else! And anyway, your hair isn't like Ginny's: it's long and – and – and lionlike and golden red and absolutely bloody gorgeous – and oh my god, please tell me I didn't just say that.”

“You like my hair?” For the first time since Fleur had left him, Bill sounded vaguely interested.

“Yes,” said Harry irritably. “And now can we get off the -”

It was Bill's turn to interrupt. “Anything else about me you like?” he asked.

“No! I mean, yes. I mean – oh bloody hell.”

“Ron said...”

“Ron's got a big mouth,” said Harry. “You don't want to take any notice of what he says, he's usually just...” Harry suddenly remembered that one of the things Ron had been saying ever since he first saw Fleur was how much he fancied her, and suspected that he'd just put his foot into it big time. “Erm, anyway, we don't want to talk about him,” he said hastily.

“You're not interested, then?”

“No!”

“Well, bugger,” said Bill mildly. “And to think Ron and Fleur went to all that trouble to give us time together. Though Ron never mentioned The Hair Thing, to be fair.”

“There isn't a -” Harry broke off. “What d'you mean about Ron and Fleur?”

“What do you mean about my hair?”

“All right,” said Harry, in the voice of one pushed into the final corner, “I fancy you. And your hair. And now, can we go on with getting drunk, please?”

“Nah,” said Bill, reaching out and tugging Harry down beside him. “I've got a much better idea...”


End file.
